


If We Go Down, Then We Go Down Together

by lyn452



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/M, Romance, Smut, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14204904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyn452/pseuds/lyn452
Summary: (Spoilers for Season 2, as well as some book/presumably season 3 ones) Life, after all, was just a series of interconnected events, sometimes fortunate, often times unfortunate for the Snicket family. Jacques wished seeing his brother and sister’s previous heartbreaks would have prepared him better for his own. To find her only to immediately lose her, it was most unfortunate.(Also includes minor mentions of past Olaf/Kit and Lemony/Beatrice as well as Kit/Dewey)





	If We Go Down, Then We Go Down Together

Olivia Caliban, when she’d been a foolish young girl, had often read books about doomed romances. She had thought the combination of romance and tragedy presented an interesting dichotomy. A word here that means two things that should be opposites fitting together in one story in order to further highlight the depth of feelings created by both kinds of stories.

I never met Olivia Caliban, but I knew my brother loved her. Because he wrote me a note, one that I found several years later during my research into the Baudelaire orphans. When I first found it, the message made me weep for hours, unable to continue my research until the thought of how my brother often continued forward with his impeccable research despite once having two broken feet due to a herd of particularly grumpy elephants.

This story is not a particular deep one, it is a mere glimpse into a brief window of time as built by a world not owned nor created by the author of this story. It mostly serves as an additional chance to see two characters during their brief time together, in a more adult fashion. So look away now if such a story doesn’t interest you, or you are a child who might not understand what two adults in love do when spending some quality time together as this tale might cause you to ask your parents some awkward questions, or if you are at work and don’t want a record of reading material that could get you fired.

 

* * *

 

Olivia tried not to fall for him, this tall, handsome stranger who invited her to join his secret organization like the plot of so many books she’d read before. She tried not to see him as a romantic figure, coming into her life at a perfect time to give her purpose and help her save the children she’d come to care for during their time at Prufrock Prep. She tried not to read into his heroic actions and his eagerness to bring her into the fold as a volunteer as anything but passion for his cause, not reflecting any passion he might hold for her.

But she felt less lonely with him in her life. She felt, for the first time, like she had a partner. Someone to share adventures with and perhaps even a full life with.

She had been lonely most of her life, finding more comfort in books and stories than in people. Her parents had died when she was young, leaving her alone in this world except with a well-stocked and well-sorted library that she took comfort in. Unlike people, stories didn’t let you down, or if they did, there were warnings along the way, foreshadowing, snarky narrators, and other literary devices to let the reader know that this story might not end the way they hope.

But those devices didn’t exist in real life, so Olivia didn’t know if Jacques Snicket crossing her path was tragic or not. She only she was developing feelings for him at a rapid rate and wished she could slow them down somehow.

Then she would look at him, a man who looked every inch the hero she’d long ago decided didn’t exist, and she would fall just a little harder.

She looked over at him now, as they had stopped on the side of the road so he could make a phone call, somehow finding a payphone in the city. She wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but the phone call was a quick one and it wasn’t long before he was striding back to his cab. He got into the driver’s seat and clicked on his seat belt before starting the engine.

He answered her question before she got the chance to ask. “We have our mission: finding the missing Quagmire triplets. We have reason to believe they are being hid at 667 Dark Street. You and I are going to search the building while my associates distract Count Olaf and his hench people.” His eyes glanced over her, making her blush a little. “First, we’re going to need to get you another outfit.”

Olivia tried to hide her blush, but she wondered just where this strange man would be taking her. “Why didn’t you use your car phone for that call? You did with your last associate.” She remembered how proud she had felt at him calling her the “new recruit.” It had filled her with a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt since getting her masters in the library sciences, as the cruel world had dashed her dreams of bringing knowledge to young minds during her time at the academy.

His eyes glanced at her again through his mirror. “It’s never wise to make too many phone calls from one phone. Keeping our organization secret is paramount for much of the work we do.”

“But I learned about it,” she pointed out.

“Yes, through research and learning, exactly the skills we expect and want from our recruits. It serves as a sort of self-filtering recruiting method. Anyone clever enough to discover some of our secrets is clever enough to be entrusted with all of them.” He winked at her.

Olivia’s back straightened again, proud of herself once more. They stopped outside a leather shop, which seemed an odd choice.

But Jacques merely got out of the car and walked around to open her door. He held out a hand for her. When she took it, Olivia felt a flutter of her heart at the contact, which was ridiculous, but still true.

She pushed the feeling aside, looking up at the store sign, which advertised leather goods and clothes. Once again, he answered before she could ask her question, “You need another outfit in a jiffy and this is the best store for that.” He tugged on his own leather coat. “We don’t have much time. Hurry, Olivia Caliban.”

For some reason, Olivia was quite pleased to hear him say her name. She quite liked the way it rolled off of his tongue. She wondered how her name might sound coming from him under different circumstances. How he might groan it at the height of pleasure.

She looked down, slightly ashamed of her bawdy thoughts. They were rescuing children, not engaging in such activity. They were on an important mission. There was no time for amorous and lewd thoughts.

But as he walked in with her, she looked him over as he looked for a clerk to help them, and she couldn’t help but wish there was time. She wanted to berate herself, after all he was still a relative stranger, but she couldn’t help but feel...something for him. Even if it was just lust.

It felt like more than lust though. Olivia looked around the shop in an effort to distract herself from her thoughts. It was much as she would have guessed, with leather gloves and outfits all around. There were straps and belts lining one wall. Glove lining the other. Racks of jackets, pants and other items filled the store with a rack of shoes in the back. On the other side of the back were some dressing rooms.

She looked up and saw a familiar eye in the frame of the sunroof which provided the store with natural light.

A man came up to them. “Can I help you two?”

“Yes,” Jacques answered for her. “The lady here requires an outfit for a trip upwards. And we’re in a terrible hurry.”

The man nodded as though he understood, taking out a measuring tape. Within seconds he had taken her measurements, astounding Olivia with his speed. She looked to Jacques who gave her a reassuring half-smile. The man left them for a few moments before returning with a catsuit and some boots.

It wasn’t an outfit Olivia would ever wear, but then she had never imagined herself joining a secret organization either. She gulped down a bit of nerves looking to Jacques once more. He gave her an encouraging nod, then pointed to one of the changing rooms in the back. “I’m sure it fits perfectly, but you might as well change here.”

She wondered where else he would consider her changing. In the back of his cab? She made her way to the changing rooms, and after swallowing once more, knowing they were in a hurry, she changed as quickly as she could.

The suit did fit perfectly. She studied herself in the mirror, forcing herself to admit she looked quite good. Though the glasses didn’t look right. She went to her purse where she kept a pair of contacts in case of emergency. While this didn’t really qualify, she decided it would be worth it.

Jacques’ eyes took in her figure as she stepped out of the dressing room. She walked towards him in her heels, her eyes never leaving his. “What do you think?”

“I think it’ll do nicely.” He held up a credit card, turning to the clerk. “We’ll take it. To go. Be a good man and be quick about it.”

“Yes, Mr. Snicket.” The store clerk collected the tags and began to ring the purchase up. He even collected Olivia’s old outfit to put into a bag for her to carry out.

Jacques was looking at her again, this time he licked his lips once before telling her, “You look very nice, Olivia Caliban.”

Rather than blushing, Olivia’s heart pounded and she walked a step closer to him, clearly making him a bit uneasy though he didn’t step away. “Thank you, Jacques Snicket.”

It was the first time she’d said his name and from the twinkle in his eye, he quite liked it.

 

* * *

 

They had not gotten lucky in the penthouse. Or at Veblen Hall. Jacques had felt the bitter sting of defeat before, more often than he’d like to admit, but this felt even worse. He wanted to rescue the children of his dear, dead friends.

It had nothing to do with the pretty woman Jacqueline had sent his way and his desire to look good in front of her. The inelegant turns of phrase Jacques had experienced in front of Olivia made him think about the fact that he knew Jacqueline shared Kit’s concerns about him getting too lost in his work since Lemony’s latest disappearance.

The last time he’d spoken with Kit she had told him, “You’re in too deep, Jacques. You spend too much time in that taxi and no time out in the world.”

“That’s not true.”

“Really? When’s the last time you didn’t sleep in the taxi and instead used a hotel or other means of sleep that involved a bed rather than your backseat?” Jacques had shifted uncomfortably unsure of the answer, having spent at least the last month sleeping in his cab. Kit didn’t wait for his answer. “I just worry about you. You’re like a brother to me.”

“I am your brother, Kit. You’re twin brother, in fact.”

“Yes, and I’m not letting my child,” she had patted her still flat stomach meaningfully, “hang out with their weird uncle.”

Jacques had wanted to ask if she was planning on letting her child spend time with its weird, workaholic father, but knew better than to criticize her romantic decisions. The last time he’d expressed such a concern had ended about as poorly as it possibly could. Despite his current mission, he still hoped he could avoid Olaf, not wanting to see the man who’d once been a friend but had since then caused his family to implode for a period of time.

Kit had almost completely recovered, Olaf’s promise of a last kiss still haunting her, but Lemony never really had. He still desperately loved Beatrice, despite making peace with her marriage and children as well as her death. Lemony would never get over what his once best friend had done to the woman he loved.

Many in VFD believed Lemony dead, but Jacques didn’t. Neither did Kit. They knew their brother. He was no great fighter, but he was the best run and hider in the world. Lemony had spent most of his life on the lam, probably more of it than anyone else. He could survive anything. He would survive them all.

Olivia was now driving, as she had committed to the VFD after he had told her the entire story, even taking her to the Baudelaire fire. Jacques knew he should probably sit in the back seat to keep up the illusion of a cab, but he also knew she was still in training, so he rode beside her. From this new position, he could smell her better, the scent of old books and ink from stamping library books. It was a good scent, one he quite liked.

Jacques kept his eyes on the road, trying to ignore the pretty woman at his side and focus on the mission. She had called him sturdy, he remembered. It didn’t seem like much of compliment, but it had felt like the best one he’d ever received.

He noticed her eyes kept drifting shut, so he guided her to park the car behind a billboard. “We can wait here for the night. Get some rest, Olivia Caliban. You’ll need it when I’m through with you.” He nodded to the back seat.

He thought he saw a blush stain Miss Caliban’s cheeks. He found it to be adorable and it made her hair look more vibrant, bringing out the red in it. Then he thought through his last words to her, he kept making that mistake, kept accidentally insinuating something between them. He wished he could stop it, but he also didn’t want to. She hesitated as she reached for the door handle, “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he nodded to the road. “I’ll keep a lookout.”

Olivia bit her lip, but nodded. She climbed in the back, curled up and closed her eyes. He could tell it took her awhile to actually fall asleep. It often did when someone’s mind was filled with worries and reflections on previous failings.

Against his better judgement, Jacques kept looking at her sleeping figure in the rearview mirror. She looked so beautiful, like a princess in a fairy tale. His mind drifted to Sleeping Beauty, and the changes Disney had made in adapting that story, how she had required more than a kiss in the original fairy tale.

He shook such uncouth thoughts from his mind. It was inappropriate to think such things about a new recruit. Completely inappropriate. Never had such thoughts crossed his mind before.

Then again, most of his recruits were kidnapped children, and while his role as a volunteer definitely made him do some questionable things, he would never do anything that questionable. He was no villain. Jacques also rarely spent time with any of his associates, he was more for pick-ups and getaways. He would spend time with them on the drive, but he rarely continued to spend time with them. He had never trained a volunteer himself.

His relationship with Olivia was different. He knew that. He didn’t think she did though. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to know that she was different. He worried that she might read too much into it.

He was reading too much into it.

 

* * *

 

Olivia gripped the steering wheel again, as they followed the villains with the kidnapped children. “So why did the VFD teach you how to dance? Is the Watusi really that important?”

“Dancing is very important. Where would the world be without the waltz?”

“The mambo?”

“The tango?”

“Vertical or horizontal?” The words left her mouth before she could think them through.

“Well, they have both contributed in their way,” Jacques inclined his head. “One a little more than the other.”

With a smirk, Olivia asked, “Vertical or horizontal?”

Jacques grinned in response though Olivia would have sworn a bit of red stained his cheeks. She decided that was enough teasing, or was it flirting, and asked, “What else did they teach you?”

“Well, they taught us how to fence, how to develop secret codes, and such things. I wish we had more time, but we can go over some of the basics. I assume you’re well read, being that you’re a librarian.”

She recited for him:

“For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,

Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,

Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies

Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.

Search narrowly the lines! -- they hold a treasure

Divine -- a talisman -- an amulet

That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure --

The words -- the syllables! Do not forget

The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor!

And yet there is in this no Gordian knot

Which one might not undo without a sabre,

If one could merely comprehend the plot.

Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering

Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus

Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing

Of poets, by poets -- as the name is a poet’s, too.

Its letters, although naturally lying

Like the knight Pinto -- Mendez Ferdinando --

Still form a synonym for Truth. -- Cease trying!

You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you _can_ do.”

“And who was that poem for?” Jacques’ eyes were on her, she could feel them burning.

She answered, “Frances Sargent Osgood.”

“Impressive,” Jacques said.

Olivia preened a bit from the praise. He said, “I guess we can skip word play and puzzles as well as literature then.”

He taught her how to tie a Devil’s Tongue knot, then explained how to make an edible dish entirely out of horseradish and wasabi. He then discussed the more physical aspects of the job and how to apprehend criminals by tripping them up with a whip, rope or fire hose.

“It would be better if I showed you and we practiced properly, but I’m afraid we just don’t have the time.”

“It’s okay,” Olivia glanced at him. “I learn best by either reading or orally.” She didn’t realize the double meaning of her words until she saw his widened eyes.

He coughed slightly, while she looked away, embarrassed. She had been around plenty of attractive men before and she had managed not to constantly put her foot in her mouth then. What was wrong with her now?

Perhaps it was him. Perhaps it was that Jacques Snicket was different than those other men.

He tried to ignore her faux paux, but it just made it worse. “Still, real practice is often best. We should get your hands on a fire hose as soon as possible. I have one in the trunk. I can teach you how to work it. You need a good firm grip on the hose, but not too tight or nothing will come out the end.”

Rather than trying to fix the implications once more, Olivia just leaned into it. She looked at him for as long as was safe, considering she was still driving. “I agree. We should get my hands on your fire hose as soon as possible, so that you can teach me how to turn it on and use it.”

He looked embarrassed this time, coughing again. This time it was worse, sounding more like that banker, Mr. Poe. He looked out the side window, his hand still covering his face.

Olivia went back to keeping her eyes on the road, on their target. She shouldn’t be flirting with handsome heroes. She should be helping those kind orphans.

But she saw him glance at her out of the corner of her eye and wondered, couldn’t she do both?

 

* * *

 

They watched the car of villains stop at hotel. Poe’s car was in the parking lot as well. They watched as Olaf tried to protest, insisting that they had to be ready to chase the orphans once the banker had them in his car again. Esme pointed out that the banker and children had also stopped for the night as the drive was too long to be done in just one day. She insisted she wanted a bed and not to be in the car with smelly hench people for one second more.

This comment had made the hench people sniff themselves before they began accusing each other of being the one she was complaining about. Olaf growled but gave in. He ordered the hench people to take the fish with them to hide in one of the hotel rooms, assigning a guard duty schedule that naturally didn’t include him or Esme.

Jacques watched all of this through his spy glass. He decided that it might be best if he and Olivia stopped for the night as well. He thought about trying to break out the Quagmires now, but he thought it might be easier without the guards. He guessed that they wouldn’t do anything that conspicuous in the village. It would be easier to rescue them there. But to make sure they didn’t chance losing their targets, he also wanted to check in with another member in the organization who was currently stationed in the Hinterlands.

He bent down to speak with Olivia, who looked up at him in a way that made him uncomfortable, like he was some kind of hero. Jacques knew he wasn’t a hero, but he also could admit he sort of liked her devotion to him. He only hoped he didn’t let her down. Olivia Caliban was a woman worth impressing. He said, “I need to call an associate.” He handed her his spyglass. “Keep your eyes peeled, make sure they don’t leave without us or see us spying on them.”

She nodded, taking the symbol of membership in VFD with a seriousness that impressed him. Jacques was reluctant to walk away from her, but he did. His mission came first, it always did. He walked to the nearby phone booth, a rare sight these days, often only used for VFD business.

He called Kit, knowing that she was also working in the Hinterlands. She would be too far away to serve as backup, but she might be good for passing on the message of their possible failure, if it came to that.

Kit answered quickly, “Yes?” Her voice was accented.

“Kit, can you talk?”

Her voice sounded normal now. “Yes. Is something the matter, Jacques?”

“Yes and no. We’re following Count Olaf and his trope.” Jacques knew Kit preferred not to hear that name, and he wished to spare his sister any pain, but there was no time for coyness. “They’ve absconded the Quagmire triplets, Isidore and Duncan, again, and they are following the Baudelaires. They are all headed to VFD in the Hinterlands. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

Kit paused, long enough to make Jacques feel guilty for mentioning Olaf’s name. He knew Kit wouldn’t want the painful reminder, but he thought enough time had passed and she was over it now.

“We?” Her voice was a combination of amusement and curiosity. He guessed if he could see her, Kit’s eyebrow would be raised. “Since when did you stop working alone?”

That was what she picked up on from all that he’d said? Jacques swallowed his annoyance. “I’m with the new recruit, Olivia.”

“Olivia?” He could hear the smirk Kit was speaking around.

He realized his mistake. He was never overly familiar with new recruits. He tried to cover. “Yes, Olivia Caliban. I’m training her. She’s a natural. A librarian with a gifted mind, along with positive and optimistic outlook. She’s much braver than she gives herself credit for and she cares deeply about innocent children she only met for a short time. She will be a talented agent.” He worried he’d rambled too much and his sister would pick up on it.

“I see,” Kit said. It seemed he had gotten away with his second slip up. “If you get into any trouble let me know.”

Jacques nodded and prepared to hang up when Kit stopped him, “Can ask you a question?”

“Even if I said no, when has that ever stopped you?”

“True.” He pictured her smug smile. “Tell me, have you banged her in the back of your cab yet?”

Jacques nearly sputtered at the image he immediately conjured. So he hadn’t managed to slip his fondness for Olivia past his clever sister. “That would be completely inappropriate.”

“I didn’t hear a no.”

Jacques looked at Olivia who looked worried at whatever horrified look he guessed was on his face right now. He turned away from her to hide his blush from her eyes. “I have to go.”

“Have fun, but not too much fun. Unless you want your new girlfriend to end up in my situation.”

Jacques didn’t like the thrill he felt at the thought of Olivia, pregnant with his child. “Good-bye, Kit.”

“Good-bye, Jacques.”

 

* * *

 

Good-byes are not the worst last words for beloved siblings to exchange, even when spoken in a tone of ending an annoying conversation rather than sincerity. Though we all hope for better, more eloquent last words, they can be much worse than a simple good-bye. My own last words with my sister, for example, were “That bonnet makes your forehead look wider than it is.” She left in a huff. How I wish I could told her how much she meant to me, how much I loved her. How crucial she was to me when I was going through the worst moment in my life. As well as the second worst moment of my life.

With my brother, my last words were even worse. I told him, “If I’m not back in five minutes, assume I’m dead and leave without me.”

I should have told him, “If I’m not back in **six** minutes, assume I’m dead and leave without me.” I wish I would have told him that I always admired and respected him. That I always tried to follow the example he set. I wish I would have told him how I wished him happiness in the future, that I hoped he fell in love at some point in his life even if it didn’t work out, as Snicket romances were prone to do.

I wish for a lot of things that will never happen.

Pardon my interruption.

 

* * *

 

Jacques hung up the phone, staring at it for a moment, as if worried it might bite him. Why would his sister put such thoughts in his head? He walked out of the phone booth, heading back to the car.

Looking at Olivia, whose big brown eyes stared up at him, Jacques felt a tug at his groin, picturing his sister’s suggestion. He didn’t like how he imagined picking Olivia up only to throw her into the back seat of his cab to have his way with her.

He looked away from her, ashamed of his dirty thoughts. He told her, “We should stop here. Get some rest while they rest as well.”

She nodded in agreement. Olivia got out of the car. “Should we get a room?”

Jacques knew it would be a risk. They might be spotted by their enemies if they all wandered around the same hotel. The taxi was parked in a hidden spot already, they might be better off sleeping there. But he guessed while Olivia would kindly go along with whatever he decided, unlike him, she wasn’t used to sleeping in taxis and would probably prefer a bed.

He nodded, not trusting his voice, as they walked to the hotel. He looked back at his taxi, fearful of leaving it behind. He considered the old machine his good luck charm. He always managed to get out of any scrape he was in also long as his trusty taxi was waiting for him. Part of him wanted to stay behind and sleep in his cab rather than in a bed.

But he knew he couldn’t let Olivia face the danger they might be in alone. She was still new and his recruit. It was his duty to guide and teach her. Until the time came for her to be on her own and doing her own missions.

He was hoping that would take a while, but he feared she would learn quickly. She was already proving to have a natural aptitude for it.

Wanting to get her permission before reaching the front desk, he said to her, “I think it would be best to get one room with two beds, that way one of us can always watch the parking lot for any suspicious activity.”

“That sounds logical,” she sounded oddly disappointed.

“We could get two rooms,” Jacques’ stomach tightened at the prospect, but he refused to look too deeply into why.

“Oh, no,” Olivia replied quickly. “One room is fine. One room is perfect.” She was blushing again, Jacques noticed.

He agreed though, he wanted one room as well. They walked up to the front desk and the clerk greeted them with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Jacques answered. “We need a room with two beds that faces the street.” That way one of them would be able to watch the parking lot to see if anyone left.

The clerked nodded, his smile still on his face as he punched something into his computer. He sighed. “I’m afraid we’re sold out of rooms of that kind. All we have left is a one bed room that faces the street.”

Jacques hesitated to answer, but Olivia spoke up for him. She took the card out of his hand to plop it on the desk. “We’ll take it.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, surprised by her forwardness. It wasn’t so long ago she’d been chastising him for being a strange man asking her to get into his cab. She didn’t look ashamed or embarrassed though as the clerk ran their card. She leaned in to whisper an explanation to him. “If one of us is keeping watch anyway, we don’t really need two beds.”

He nodded. She was right. Though spending a night with Olivia Caliban made him feel unsettled. He wasn’t sure why. He’d spent plenty of nights on mission with beautiful women. It had always stayed professional, as he was a reliable, dependable volunteer. So why did it matter with this recruit? Why did it feel like his stomach was full of eels, writhing and turning at the thought of being alone in a hotel room with only one bed?

The clerk handed him his credit card back. “You’re all set, Mr. and Mrs. Snicket. I hope you enjoy your stay. Do you want us to take your bags for you?”

Jacques bent down to carry his duffle bag with their spying equipment. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you.” He tried not to think about the assumption that they were husband and wife. He knew it would be best, a good cover that didn’t draw any undue attention to them. It was for the best, he knew.

But when Olivia smiled at him in the elevator, the thought of calling her Mrs. Snicket made Jacques’ stomach twist further. They were about to share a private room together with one bed. Jacques swallowed.

When the elevator doors closed he reminded himself of the mission. His dear friends’ children were counting on them. This wasn’t the time for romantic entanglements.

Then when was? A voice in his head said, sounding suspiciously like Kit. You could die tomorrow, it said. This is a dangerous mission. Wouldn’t you rather die without regretting what you might have done with a woman you were beginning to love?

Jacques swallowed again. Was he beginning to love her? He glanced at Olivia, who despite her nerves had a steely gaze trained ahead. She was determined and brave and beautiful.

Yes, yes, he was beginning to love her.

The elevator doors opened and they walked to their room - 13. He knew it was unlucky, most hotels didn’t even have room or floors labelled 13 due to silly superstitions, but he never cared for such nonsense. He unlocked the door and strode in.

He set down his duffle bag by the window, preparing to set up a telescope and camera to watch Count Olaf’s and the banker’s cars. Olivia sat next to him on the bed, making him nervous though he did his best to hide it.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yes,” he nodded to the curtain. “See if there’s an angle we can get where we can see both Poe and Olaf’s car at once.”

She picked up his spyglass and moved to find the right angle. When she was bent over in front of him, she said, “There. That’s the angle.”

He ignored her ass in his face, moving to set up the telescope and camera at the angle she had indicated. When he looked through both lenses to check, he found the view to be perfect. Or as close as it could be. He stood up and told her, “Nice work.”

She smiled at him. Then she glanced at the bed, biting her lip as she put down the spyglass. He cleared his throat. “I will take the first watch. You should lay down. Get some rest. We have an interminably long drive ahead of us tomorrow.”

She looked down at her feet, playing with her hands. “If we have the camera, do we really need a watch right away? We can find out and catch up if anyone leaves, right?”

He knew she was correct, but it felt neglectful. “Yes, but we can’t sleep at the same time anyway. There’s only one bed.”

“Jacques,” Olivia stepped closer to him. He tried not to stare at her lips, but they were right there, so inviting. It had been so long for him. As he worked up the courage to kiss her, she pulled him down to her, seizing his lips herself.

It felt like heaven. Jacques’ hands moved to Olivia’s hips, bringing her in closer, deepening the kiss. He never wanted to stop kissing her. He brought her in tighter, wanting her so much, needing this more than he could remember needing anything.

Without realizing it, he’d been walking her back to the bed. It wasn’t until her knees met the mattress and she fell backwards that Jacques had even realized they’d moved. He tried to remember himself, tried to remind himself that he was a noble, dependable volunteer who didn’t ravish recruits in hotel rooms when one of them was supposed to be keeping watch.

But he could only think of one thing, as he looked down on Olivia’s blinking form, her kissed bruised lips, “With the first kiss out of the way, all we have left is our last kiss.” He leaned over her, caressing the side of her face, moving his hands down to feel every part of her she allowed him to feel.

“Plus all the kisses in between,” Olivia pointed out as her hands gripped his shirt and she brought him in for another kiss. Jacques returned the kiss eagerly. His hands continued to roam over her soft curves as he tried to commit her body to memory. He knew she was learning fast, she would be fully trained soon, and sent off on her own missions. He might not see her again for a long time once Olaf was apprehended, the orphans saved and brought to headquarters for their training.

It was one of the sacrifices you made, being a volunteer. His own sister would probably spend most of her pregnancy away from the father of her child, the man she loved, because their different skill sets required them to be in different places.

Jacques pushed those thoughts aside. He was here now, with Olivia. That was all that mattered in the moment. He could worry about the future tomorrow.

His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, nibbling along her jawline and around her ears. His movements made her moan, a sound he filed away like a librarian would. Jacques wanted to kiss her all night, but as he pulled back again, his hands framing her face so he could stare into her eyes, he knew they didn’t have the time. He said, “Olivia Caliban.”

She answered with a sigh, “Jacques Snicket.”

He kissed her this time, and his hands moved down her body again, but with more purpose this time. He began to unbutton her blouse, caressing every inch of newly exposed skin. He took his time, as much as he could with the ticking clock in the back of his mind. He knew as much as he wished they had all night, they were being neglectful of their duties as VFD agents. While better sense told him they should stop, this should and could wait, part of him that feared the future told him to press on, that he might never get this chance again.

He listened to that part of him as he continued undressing Olivia. She was so beautiful. His lips moved to follow the trail his hands pioneered across her body. He had always loved the pursuit of knowledge and right now he wanted to learn which spots made her moan and which ones made her scream.

Olivia alternated between breathy sighs, delicious moans and gasps of his name as he explored her skin, only her underwear remaining on her body. He moved to cup her breasts in his large hands, enjoying the heavy fullness of them in his palms. Olivia’s head fell back into the pillow as her back arched, pressing her more firmly against him.

In response, Jacques bent his head to begin kissing the tops of her breasts not covered by her bra. Olivia’s fingers began to comb through his hair and Jacques’ tongue dipped under the edge of the lace trim.

With her back still arched, one of his hands reached around and with one hand, he unhooked her bra.

“My, my,” Olivia gasped, clearly impressed. Jacques did his best not to look too proud of himself, but he was quite happy to have impressed her. Slowly, reverently, he slipped down the bra straps to remove the garment from her pale, perfect skin.

He didn’t want to stare, but he couldn’t help it. She had perfect breasts, his Olivia. His head bent down again as he captured one perfect nipple with his lips, using his teeth and tongue to pebble the bud as she writhed beneath him. He gave her other one the same delightful treatment.

Jacques began to move down her stomach, but Olivia gripped his shirt, pulling him up with more strength then he would have guessed she had. She kissed him again, rougher this time, biting his lips gently as she rolled him onto his back. “You are entirely overdressed, Mr. Snicket.”

He couldn’t very well argue with her, as she was only in her panties while he’d only removed his coat. He let her do as she willed. Her treatment followed his, as she undressed him slowly, but with purpose, kissing and caressing him, as he laid back and enjoyed the feel of Olivia’s soft, slender hands and full lips tracing every part of his body.

Thoughts of everything except this woman left him. When she had him in the same state of undress she was in, she moved back up to capture his lips again. They kissed. Jacques felt Olivia’s hand move down his chest, across his stomach and then beneath his jockey shorts to grip him. Stroke him.

He broke away from her to let a loud moan. She smirked at the sound, which slightly embarrassed him, but not enough for him to stop her. Instead, he breathed out her name, “Olivia.” Her hand moved faster.

When he was close to truly embarrassing himself, he pulled her hand away. He put both her hands above her head and rolled her beneath him once more. He kissed her again. His hands trailed down her arms until he reached her underwear, which he removed with her help as she moved her hips up so that he could slide them down.

He continued to kiss her, even as one of his hands, forced one her bent legs outward to allow him better access to her. His other hand stroked her nether lips, teasing her as she had him. When he dipped one of his digits inside of her, it was her turn to break away and moan.

The sound made him smirk, filling him with a male pride he hadn’t felt in quite some time. He added a second finger inside of her as his thumb moved to trace her clit.

The move made her jerk, but Jacques used his weight to hold her somewhat still as he continued to pleasure her. She began to thrash her head as she begged, “Jacques, please.”

He did as asked, bringing her to climax. As she came down from the high, he kissed her sweetly, promising against her lips, “I’ll be right back, love.”

He didn’t think twice about the term of endearment. He moved to his bag, which contained all of the tools any volunteer could ever need. He reached into a compartment he rarely opened, except when he needed some of the more exotic bills of money that were also kept in there. He pulled out a condom. He briefly worried if it was expired, he really didn’t do this often, but he just had to hope at this point since he didn’t exactly have any other options at this point.

He removed his boxer-briefs and slipped on the rubber. When he turned to face Olivia again, he was surprised to find her kneeling up on the bed. She attacked him, throwing him down as she kissed him with her lips and teeth. She straddled his lap as her fingers tugged on his hair.

He smiled at the memory of his earlier desire to do the same to her in the back of his cab. It was nice to know he wasn’t alone in this fierce desire, attraction and possibly more.

He wasn’t alone.

As if she could read his turn in thoughts, Olivia slowed and pulled back, her eyes bright as she told him. “I love you. I don’t expect you to say it back, as I know it’s far too soon to say such things, but it’s true, and I wanted to say it to you at least once. I mean, I hope I’ll say it again, but you never know, and I…”

He placed a finger on her lips, stopping her babbling, “Olivia, I love you too.”

They kissed again. And slowly, lovingly, she sank herself down on him.

Jacques felt like he’d found home. He hadn’t even realized he’d been looking for it. He had spent his entire life driving others to their destinations, who knew he’d been looking for his own. But he felt like this had been what he was made for, this was what those poets (his brother included) had harped about. He thought he’d understood, but now he wasn’t sure he ever did.

This was what love was. He had thought he’d known the feeling before, but it had never felt this devastating before. This could kill him and he’d embrace it with open arms.

He could tell from the overwhelmed look in his partner’s eyes that she was feeling the same way he did. He didn’t know what to say to her, so he gripped the side of her face to pull her to him, kissing her again.

They continued to kiss as their lower halves found a rhythm. It was a beautiful dance that they both got lost in. It might have lasted seconds, minutes or hours, but he felt everything of her as they spurned each other onto a joined climax.

When they finished, Olivia collapsed against his chest, catching her breath. He saw her eyes flutter and he kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep, Olivia.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with another kiss. He laid her down carefully, tucking her in with the blanket that had been beneath them.

Jacques threw away the now used condom and put his underwear and pants back on. He checked the telescope.

In a rare case of good luck, no one had moved. He sighed and checked the camera footage, confirming that no one had left at any point. He moved a chair to sit by the stands and watch, trying not to smile too widely, but the joy he was feeling was hard to contain, even under these terrible circumstances for the Baudelaires and the Quagmires.

At three o’clock in the morning, Olivia’s hand touched his arm. She guided him to the bed as she took up his spot, watching and waiting. He was grateful for the chance to sleep in a bed, a real bed. It had felt like ages.

When he woke up it was dawn. He decided it would be best for them to shower and head out before any of the others could leave before them. Jacques guessed that the banker and the acting troupe would take advantage of the free continental breakfast.

Jacques had never known an actor to turn down free food before.

Checking out, Jacques looked over to Olivia briefly. She was wearing a large smile, practically glowing. He knew the feeling. The clerk handed him an invoice to sign, “Did you and your wife enjoy your stay, Mr. Snicket?”

Jacques corrected the man as he checked for any fraudulent charges, “She’s not my wife.” He looked at Olivia, hoping she wouldn’t reject him. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Her eyes shone at him in response, making him feel fuller than he had in ages. Jacques signed the paper with a happy flourish before going out the door before they could be spotted.

After the night they’d had, it was silly to pretend, so he took her hand as they walked out to the car together. He guided her to the passenger door as he took the driver’s seat. Together, they waited for the chase to begin again.

 

* * *

 

Olivia drank tea with Jacques, feeling safe and secure with Olaf jailed below them and a plan to turn him over to the proper authorities, before rescuing the endangered children. She felt a warmth that was more than just the tea fill her at the sight of Jacques’ warm eyes looking at her.

They heard the door open and stood immediately. The figure who walked in was dressed as a police officer, but her uniform was strangely stylish for a local person of the law.

Olivia exchanged a quick glance with Jacques, who silently told her to be on her guard. He called out, “Excuse me, but are you the chief of police?”

The woman smiled, showing far too many teeth. “Yes, my name is Daniella Vanessa Caspian Miller. You may call me Officer Luciana.”

Jacques climbed down the stairs with Olivia following. “Officier Luciana, then, we have captured a kidnapper, arsonist, and murderer, one who would bring mayhem, chaos, and danger to your small town.” Closer to Officer Luciana now, Jacques’ eyes narrowed before he said in an astonished tone, “Esme?”

Her mask of friendliness dropped, revealing a cruel disposition. She called out, “Get them.”

From behind them, a large bald man and a person in indeterminate gender grabbed Jacques. A man with two hooks for hands attempted to apprehend her. She ducked out of his grasp only to wind up in the clutches of two pale-faced twins. “Gotcha,” they said in unison.

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia watched Jacques fight off his captors. She followed suit, wrenching herself from the old ladies’ grasps. She readied herself for a fight, facing the twins.

Esme sighed, bringing out something Olivia couldn’t see clearly, “Must I do everything myself?”

She pushed a button and two wires leapt out and attached themselves to Jacques’ body. Esme pushed a button and electricity coursed through Jacques, bringing him to his knees. Another push of the button and he’d fallen down completely.

In her shock, Olivia didn’t see the hook-handed man behind her. He threw her into the jail cell while she was distracted and the lock engaged automatically behind her. She fought against the bars, calling and reaching out to the fallen man, “Jacques!”

As she stood over him, Esme pushed the button again. She sneered over him, as he groaned in pain. He could barely be heard as he said, “Mercy.”

“I have no sympathy for stealers of sugar bowls, Snicket!” She pushed the button again.

“Brother,” Jacques managed before passing out.

Esme either didn’t hear what he’d said or didn’t care. She walked away from the man, bringing out her keys to unlock her boyfriend’s cell. She also reset her taser.

Olivia could hear Olaf’s laughter. She began to cry, but Esme pointed her taser at the librarian now. “Shut up,” Esme said as Olivia fell, losing consciousness as well.

They woke up hours later, both trapped in cells, and dawn’s first rays coming through the barred windows. Olaf was banging a night stick against the cell’s bars, making an awful noise, especially for someone had lost consciousness involuntarily. “Rise and shine, Snicket and…” He looked at her. “...and librarian. Your trial begins soon.”

Olivia could hear Jacques spring to his feet. She admired him, as she didn’t think she could stand, but she tried to anyway. She used the wall to prop herself up. Jacques said, “I’m not sure what you’re plan is, but you won’t get away with this.”

She heard the other cell unlock, heard handcuffs lock and watched as they brought Jacques out. He looked to her, his eyes telling her to stay strong. Olivia noticed that his hair had been restyled and an eyebrow glued to his forehead.

Esme approached her cell now, looking for the right key for her. One of the twins had a second pair of handcuffs ready. Jacques asked, “What do you want her?"

Olaf rolled his eyes and snorted, “Well of course, I, a world famous investigator of some sort, caught both Count Olaf and his girlfriend.” His eyes shot to Jacques. “I’m not incompetent like some.”

Olivia put together the plan in an instant and she guessed so had Jacques who then said, “If you do that, I will insist that Jerome Squalor be called to identify his wife. Jerome may not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but I do believe he will recognize his own wife. While the years have changed me, I believe he will recognize his former best friend as well.”

Olaf studied the other man’s eyes before walking away. “We can’t risk it. Leave the librarian.”

The women looked visibly disappointed by his order, Esme even walking over to Olaf. “By threatening her, we might get the location of the sugar bowl from that one.” Her eyes shot to Jacques.

Olaf shook his head, “That doesn’t matter right now.”

Esme screeched, “Yes it does. The sugar bowl is all that matters!”

Olaf’s mouth opened as one of his hands went up to rub the ear that had been closest to Esme’s yell. “Calm down, my love. Once we get the cops off my back, we’ll collect both sets of orphans and then the sugar bowl.”

Seemingly mollified, Esme strode out. Olaf grumbled behind her, pushing Jacques forward. As she watched them leave, he called out over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Olivia. I’ve been in tougher scrapes than this. We’ll be fine. You’ll see. Our story isn’t over yet.”

She wished she could have his confidence, but she’d watched too many good people suffer horrible consequences. She sled down the jail cell wall as the other hench people rushed into costumes and out the door.

Olivia’s thoughts were on the future Jacques and her had spoken about just the night before, one with marriage, children. She could feel the tears line her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, even as she ducked her head into her folded legs and the arms holding them to her body.

She thought about what she had heard and her mind began to form a plan. She would save them both. She knew what Esme Squalor wanted and she would use that.

 

* * *

 

Jacques sometimes still wrote messages to his brother, despite all of his information indicating that his brother was in fact dead. His brother had been dead once before, only for him to turn up alive to the shock of so many. Especially Beatrice.

So no matter how unlikely it was that Lemony would ever find his hidden notes, Jacques wrote them before major missions to tell his brother about his worries, his fears, and any major going ons in his life. He tried to point Lemony to any information that might be useful in whatever future mission might have put his brother on his trail. He tried to leave evidence behind to catch the evil-doers he was pursuing so that even if Jacques failed, justice would still be done. Even if Lemony was dead and his notes were pointless, they felt good to write.

But this message was different, it was far more personal with little VFD business.

Unlike Lemony, Jacques had never been one to be open about his feelings, considering them a private matter. He’d watched romantic entanglements break both his siblings’ hearts and swore that he would never make such a mistake. He would not fall in love only to have his heart broken. There had been flirtations and dalliances, but he never fell too hard, never got too close.

The mission still came first, but he knew it was different with her. When she’d looked at him before getting into his cab, mere hours ago, for the first time, he’d wanted to get in with her, run from the danger he knew faced him. He’d wanted to abandon his moral and literary principles to be with the woman he loved.

He explained all this to Lemony, knowing that his brother would understand. Jacques had never had Lemony’s gift for poetic language. His research and writings had always been fact-based, so he struggled to explain how much Olivia meant to him, and how he could care so deeply for her despite them not being together long.

He hoped that he would see his brother again some day and the dread that he felt was just his imagination. He hoped that Lemony would tease him in the future for his attempts at sugary language for describing the wife he’d met and approved of. He hoped to see Olivia smile as well, cheerifully joining his brother in their mockery of him. Perhaps even a reformed Olaf could be there as well.

He wished the scene would come true in some not too distant future, but he knew it was unlikely to happen. Olaf and his girlfriend had tied him up to the fire pole after knocking him out a second time, Jacques could hear them arguing about what to do with him. They had beaten him badly enough with that crowbar that he was fairly certain even if they hadn’t tied him up, he wouldn’t have been able to move, let alone escape. Still, he refused to give up. He hadn’t yet thought of a way out, but he had thought of a way to leave a note behind for his brother.

Jacques heard the place go quiet and his heart stopped. Footsteps came and he saw Olaf’s crooked smile, Esme’s sharp claws. She had dug those nasty talons into two of his old friends now. Poor Jerome. Olaf held up a crowbar with the tips now freshly sharpened. Jacques didn’t understand.

Then Olaf asked, “Tell me, Snicket. Do you think this looks like a set of sharp baby’s teeth?”

Olaf then stabbed Jacques’ neck, as Esme squealed in glee. Jacques slumped as the blood poured out of him. “Olivia,” he said, his final word.

He only hoped Kit would learn what happened to him before she came here. He would hate for his beloved sister to face off against Count Olaf. He feared she would make the same mistake he had. Remembering the man Olaf had once been, rather than the awful creature he’d become.

 

* * *

 

She read as much as she could from the library the last Madam Lulu had left behind. A woman who’d left so quickly, Olivia hadn’t even caught a name before the woman rushed into the cab to drive off.

Though she’d called out as she sped off, “The disguise kit is in the back, the library in the cupboard. Use it wisely, Olivia Caliban.”

Olivia had been slightly horrified by the woman’s wild driving. She most certainly wasn’t going speed limit and she made a turn without signalling. She was the VFD’s best field agent?

Still, Olivia climbed the stairs of the tent. She examined everything, making a plan quickly. She disguised herself first, changing her eyes, putting on a wig and wearing far too much makeup. She looked over the results, certain that the advanced computer that had failed to catch Count Olaf would also fail to catch her. In fact, hers was much better than his had ever been.

Olivia noticed the note that had been left for her. It explained the role of Madam Lulu in the wider organization of VFD. It also explained how to use the smoke and mirrors of the tent to create magic. It instructed her to learn as much as she could as quickly as she could, as a good fortune teller was merely a great librarian in disguise. It ended with a warning of the starving lions roaming around and a promise that she would return as soon as she was able to with answers and the sugar bowl.

It was signed by Madam Lulu.

Three people entered her tent, startling her. Olivia immediately hid the note, as she got into character. “Who are you, please?”

They seemed just as confused at the sight of her. The good-looking man spoke, “Are you Madam Lulu? You look like her, but not like her. If that makes any sense.”

She smiled, her fake teeth making it feel strange. “Yes, I am Madam Lulu.” She waved her hands in what she hoped was a mysterious manner. “The spirits changed me, giving me visions, but leaving my appearance changed and my memory faulty.”

“Oh,” all three of her were they employees, nodded in agreement. They didn’t question it further, introducing themselves instead and telling her that they were the circus’ freaks.

Working in an academy had helped Olivia develop a particular disdain for that world. “A freak show, but you’re not freaks.”

All three of the people before looked down, clearly ashamed. Kevin spoke on behalf of them all once more. “Of course we are. Freaks not fit for the normal world, our only work possible in this dreadful place.”

Saddened by his pessimistic words, Olivia made what she thought was a kind decision. She announced, “I’m closing down the freak show. No one will laugh and point at you again.”

They wailed, “No, please, we’ll be out on the streets. Not just freaks, but unemployed freaks.”

Olivia looked at the three people before her. She thought it cruel to call them freaks and force them to do demeaning things to entertain others. But she didn’t want to fire them either, not when it made them this upset. Especially not with the starving lions roaming free. So reluctantly she agreed to keep the freak show running. They bowed with gratitude as they exited her tent.

She hoped she had done the right thing.

Olivia went back to discovering new information. She looked through the books, reorganizing them with the skills of a trained librarian, as she read some of the covers. She kept out the books she figured would be best to start with. She also noticed the phone in the cupboard, it was marked “For Emergencies.”

She found one small can of film amongst the books. She looked for a projector and once she set it up, she watched what appeared to be a masquerade ball. There were crowds of people she didn’t recognize, but her heart fluttered when she spotted one familiar face - Jacques Snicket.

He looked a little younger but just as handsome as he’d always been. The chiseled jaw and the determined eyes. Though his eyes betrayed annoyance in the film. Her gaze followed his line of sight in the grainy footage.

Olivia’s happy expression fell when she spotted another face she recognized, though she nearly didn’t recognize the man dancing with the pretty, dark-haired woman who looked to be about the same age as Jacques. Olaf looked bathed and groomed, and strangest of all, happy and noble.

Jacques was watching the couple with a look of distaste on his face, as though he’d just swallowed a mouthful of salmon water.

Olivia studied the woman dancing with Olaf closer. She actually looked like the woman who’d been Madam Lulu before her. VFD’s best field agent. But why was she dancing with a villain then?

Jacques looked younger, perhaps this happened long ago, back when Olaf was good and noble rather than the rotten man she knew now. He certainly didn’t look like the man she knew in the footage. The song ended and he whispered something in the woman’s ear before they parted ways.

The woman walked to Jacques and the camera focused on them. Olivia noticed a vague resemblance between the two, as Jacques looked down on the woman. He handed her a fresh drink, which she took after a hesitation, looking in the direction Olaf had gone in.

“I do not like the way Olaf looks at you, Kit.” Jacques spoke in a concerned tone that made Olivia’s heart flutter again, but it might have just been the sound of his voice in general. It felt like ages since she heard it, despite it not being a long time at all.

“Stop being such an older brother.” The woman named Kit dismissed her brother with a wave of her hand as she sipped on her martini.

“I am the older brother.”

“By two minutes,” the woman finished her drink. “Lemony will dance with me. He always was the fun brother.”

Jacques looked horrified at the accusation. “Do you really think I’m the stick in the mud compared to Lemony? Who I believe is sulking and crying in the corner right now.”

The camera turned to a man whose face was turned away, bent down as he faced the corner as if he had been a naughty child put into a time out. The camera came back to the woman who was now biting her lip. “Did he bump into Beatrice earlier?”

“I believe so.”

“It must be hard for him, seeing her.” She looked sadly on her brother.

Then Kit’s eyes brightened at the sight of something beyond the line of the camera. “The Denouncement triples have arrived. Even Dewey, he almost never comes out of his sub-sub-library. I should go say hi.”

She rushed off before her brother could stop her. Jacques looked over at Olaf again, who had been returning with two glasses of wine, but he finished them both himself as he looked in the direction Kit had rushed to. He gave someone off camera a nasty look, as he stood to the side of the dance floor glowering.

Jacques took up a spot on the opposite side of the dance floor, his look more concerned than angry.

In between the two men was a handsome couple dancing. Olivia recognized Kit Snicket as the woman, but she didn’t know who the good looking young man with her was. But whatever his name, Kit’s eyes were bright as she laughed at something he whispered in her ear.

Olivia watched Jacques who was clearly seeing the same problem she did. The nasty look Olaf gave the young man dancing with Kit Snicket. She wished she could travel through the footage to hold dear Jacques’ hand, comfort him from the trouble that was surly coming for his sister. The trouble she knew must have happened, considering the villain Olaf had become.

The camera followed other members for a time, people Olivia didn’t know but was hoping to someday meet. A man who spoke constantly about reptiles. A woman correcting someone’s grammar. Then the camera focused back on Jacques and Olivia’s heart leapt at the sight of him. When Kit returned to her brother, he leaned over and warned, “You’re playing with fire, Kit.”

Her eyebrow rose and she replied, “Someday, Jacques, you’ll fall in love too and finally understand what all the fuss was about. Find out why someone might play with fire.”

“Fire is dangerous. It destroys everything it touches.”

“It is dangerous, but fire also gives life and light to those in cold, dark places.”

The footage ended there.

Olivia longed to ask Jacques about it, about what had happened between Kit and Olaf. Who the other man she’d been with. Jacques had alluded to some past with Olaf, a former friendship but there hadn’t been time for him to fully explain. They hadn’t had time to exchange every detail of their lives prior to meeting. She only knew the basics of his past, the schism, his kidnapping as a child, his siblings, his work with the VFD and a few of the jobs he’d had before meeting her.

They had had so little time together, Olivia thought. She wished he could have come with her or that she would have stayed with him, but she already knew that was not the life of a volunteer. You went where the mission needed you to go. You did the best you could against the villains of the world to protect those who needed it.

Her role here was to gather information. It was a role she flourished in, as she was quite used to collecting and cataloging information.

Collette walked in with a paper, “Did you see _The Daily Punctilio_?”

Olivia stopped herself from rolling her eyes. That paper was so misinformed. But she kept up her charade. “What did it say, please?”

“That awful kidnapper has been murdered.” Collette smiled. “It’s kind of nice when the bad guys lose, isn’t it?”

Olivia smiled back, taking the paper. “Yes it is.” Collette left, as Olivia opened the paper fully. Ready to drink in the justice of Jacques finally catching his man and the orphans all being safe.

But then she realized she’d made a dreadful mistake. For the picture staring back at her was not Count Olaf. No, it was the man who’d they’d captured and falsely identified as Count Olaf.

Olivia collapsed, weeping at the news. She prayed the information was wrong. She wished she hadn’t fallen for him so fast, so hard. But part of her knew it was true.

Jacques Snicket was dead.

 

* * *

 

I wish I could tell you what you just read was false. That Jacques Snicket defeated Count Olaf by convincing our old friend to abandon his plots and schemes and return to our side of VFD. I wish I could tell you that Jacques is alive and well, along with Olivia, and I go over to their apartment every Wednesday night with Kit and Dewey for Family Night, where we play trivia and puzzle games. I wish I could tell you that my honorable and noble brother (and his girlfriend) got the happy ending he (and she) so richly deserved.

But we both know, that wasn’t how the story went.


End file.
